Left Behind
by therealmnemo
Summary: Hawke slips away in the night and leaves a letter for Anders and Fenris. Fenris isn't adjusting well, and Anders tries to help. Both mean more to each other than they realize. In which absence makes the heart grow fonder. Written for FenHanders Week.


It was Fenris who woke up first. Instead of Marian's cobalt locks flared out on the bed beside him, Anders' untroubled mask of sleep faced him instead. He sat up to gaze around the small abandoned farmhouse they spent the past month in. The morning sun lit all four corners, no Hawke in sight.

Once on his feet, he checked the lopsided dresser that leaned against the wall. All her clothes were gone. His heart pounded in his chest when he caught the flutter of parchment in his peripheral, the soft summer breeze rustled the final clue that lay on the makeshift kitchen table. Fenris approached the letter pinned beneath an empty mug, terrified of what he would find.

* * *

Anders slowly woke to the sun shining directly into his eyes. He pulled up an arm to shield himself before realizing he was alone in the bed. The past two weeks Hawke took to waking up both men with a kiss, as if to start each day energized with their love. He listened, eyes still covered, and he was greeted with the sound of silence.

Even for a rogue, Marian Hawke could never be silent.

He lifted to his elbows and caught sight of Fenris sitting in a chair, looking out the window with a piece of parchment rolled in his hands. Was he looking for Hawke? He swallowed back the mild panic and tried his best to sound calm.

"Fenris… Is she gone?"

Anders waited for a response that never came.

* * *

The first day passed like most others, as if Hawke just decided to ride off to town for the day. Anders spent the afternoon tending the small herb garden that was still intact from the last owner. He bundled elfroot to bring inside and hung it in the far corner they established as the kitchen.

Fenris stayed in the chair, keeping silent watch.

When the sun went down, Anders lit several candles and picked up a worn book he had read several times before. He sat on the edge of the bed and considered his silent roommate. As close as the three of them had become, there was still a small wall between them. As much as Anders came to love him just as much as he loved Hawke, he felt like the elf could easily still do without him.

Face set with a new resolve, Anders crossed the room to sit by Fenris' feet. He conjured a small magelight to hover over his reading, feeling the elf shiver slightly at his magic behind him. With a sigh, he opened the book and started reading aloud.

* * *

Two months later, the tension started wearing Anders down. Fenris refused to leave his watch except to relieve himself. He slept in the chair when exhaustion finally won out. Anders' heart broke a little more every morning.

Anders tried everything. He read to Fenris nightly, making awkward commentary in an effort to elicit a response. He made food and handed it directly to him, taking his plate when finished. At least the damned elf knew he couldn't keep watch if he starved to death.

Anders would give him a week, and then he'd bother him for his clothing to wash. While his clothing dried, Anders pulled over a bucket and took a rag to wipe him down. He tried his best to run water through his hair and then plaited it over the elf's shoulder. Fenris' eyes never left the window, never meeting Anders' face.

* * *

A small whimper woke Fenris in the middle of the night. He silently cursed himself for falling asleep once more, scanning for any change in the horizon. Anders often made noises during the night, but Fenris didn't notice them as much until now.

Then the talking started. For a moment, Fenris thought the mage was attempting to address him again until the fear crept into his voice.

Anders' nightmares had been unsettling when they first travelled together after leaving Kirkwall. The battle still fresh in his mind, the bloodshed never truly coming out from under his nails. Both he and Hawke would wake up in the middle of the night to the screaming mage, crying out in hysterics. He was at a loss, but Hawke would… she would hold him. She would never wake him, but she would wrap her arms around his trembling body and run her hands through his hair. Anders would eventually still, and Hawke would fall asleep wrapped around him.

Of course they would return when she was gone.

Fenris braced himself, but was not prepared for the anguish that escaped the sleeping mage's mouth. How he slept through it…

He stood from the chair and observed Anders from across the room. The mage was tangled in the sheets and grasping the pillow beside him. Fenris felt his heart pull at the expression on his face. He felt Anders' pain and desperately wanted to make it stop.

Hawke could help him, keep him safe, but she was gone.

Fenris approached the bed, not having slept in it since the day Hawke slipped away in the night, and cautiously sat next to the pillow Anders grasped. The mage's face was slick with tears, mumbling incoherently. He heard Hawke's name several times. When he heard his own name cross Anders's lips, he froze.

Did the mage fear losing him too? Fenris tried to think back through the haze of … how long was it? Time had ceased to pass in his mind, but little things marked their passing. He knew it was mid-day because Anders fed him. He was aware the evening had fallen because Anders would read to him. He knew a week had passed because Anders would make sure he was clean. Why? He knew they were both still there because of Hawke, but he was certain there was not great love for himself.

Fenris felt the drops that fell on his hands before he noticed he was crying as well. He had not allowed himself to feel the pain of being left behind, and realized that Anders had done his best to help him keep it that way.

Fenris slid into the bed and pulled Anders, gentle yet firm, against his chest. He rested his chin on soft golden hair. He ran one hand through his hair and the other firmly placed on his lower back. Anders released the pillow and twisted his hand into Fenris' tunic, but he eventually ceased the harrowing sounds. Fenris felt the mage's body relax in his arms and finally joined him in sleep.

* * *

Anders woke in the morning wrapped around a warm lean body. When his eyes finally adjusted, he realized that Fenris joined him in the night. Unsure of how to respond, he waited. Surely the elf had simply decided to come to bed and at some point this just happened.

As if he heard the rise in Anders' pulse, Fenris' eyes flew open. They lay there for several minutes, not saying a word, not moving. Then Fenris pulled Anders to him and placed a kiss on his forehead. When Anders couldn't form a response, Fenris removed himself from the bed to look for something to eat.

* * *

A messenger arrived in the afternoon with a bundle of letters. They were a collection of all the letters Hawke had written to them since leaving for Skyhold. Varric had pulled her into another scheme to save the world, and both men cursed the Maker when they read about the situation at Adamant. In the final letter from Varric, he let them know she was on her way to Weisshaupt with the Wardens. He also mentioned that she didn't know her letters weren't being sent, and apologized on her behalf.

They never discussed what happened that morning, but they did talk about Hawke. They planned on what supplies they needed for their trip, what they were going to say when they finally got a hold of her. That quickly slipped into talking about Hawke and small memories they shared with her that the other had not been a part of. In fact, they didn't stop talking the rest of the day, finding new things to talk about as if they hadn't known each other for the past ten years.

They would never admit it now, but they truly hadn't, and had every intention of learning now until the rest of their days. Their relationship with Hawke was all the better for it.


End file.
